


Dial Green n' Sexy Pizza

by MariekoWest



Series: DB✦Retrouvaille [4]
Category: Dragon Ball Z, GohanxPiccolo
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bondage, Crack, Expletives, Humour, Ideologically Sensitive Themes, Insanity, Interspecies Romance, Interspecies Sex, Kinky Sex Play(?), Lemon, Lime, Multi, NSFW, Other, PWP-ish, Parody, Pizza!!!, Possible/Deliberate OOCness, Profanity, Rape/Non-Con/Dub-Con Elements, Sexual Innuendo/Overtones, Uke Piccolo, 腐向け, 飯Ｐ
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 22:30:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11723934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MariekoWest/pseuds/MariekoWest
Summary: Wherein Piccolo Daimaoh Jr is a struggling college student working at a pizzeria, and one night he gets called to deliver more than just pizza. (Updated with a gift cover illustration bySealid!✧)





	Dial Green n' Sexy Pizza

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sealid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sealid/gifts).



> Piccolo is 13 & Gohan is 20. Technically, a 13-yr.-old Namek isn't underage anymore (it is the legal age of consent in Japan!) but if you're a prude who can't separate reality from fiction then, proceed no further.

“I waaaant…”

All eyes at the *Roshi’s Happy Bunny *Hothel followed their customer’s unsteady finger as it wobbled, swayed, and oscillated with its owner-- until _finally_ , it managed to stay steady long enough to lock onto a definite prospect.

And there-- in the direction the finger was pointing, at the very endpoint—

…was Piccolo Daimaoh Jr.

The thirteen-year old Namek had just emptied the last of his thermal delivery bags of ten Super Saiya-size pizzas with the works.

Delivering pizzas, was only one of the many side-jobs he was juggling just to make ends meet, and as a matter of fact, the only reason he could and _ever would_ step into a hothel for.

The Namek was completely oblivious to everything except his task at hand, conveniently ignorant of all the over-glorified eye-candy, the heavy perfume-infused air, and the rather hyperbolic scene unfolding around him. Making a ‘ten Super Saiya-size pizzas with the works’ delivery to the hothel was no meagre feat. It always took every ounce of his focus and energy; not only because ten Saiya-sized pizzas weighed about as much as a full-grown Saiyajin, but because of the challenges that always came with delivering to the said establishment. One of which was how he was always harassed in some way or another whenever he was there…

Piccolo delivered a lot of pizzas to many other equally odd places, and he knew that orders that large would be nothing out of the ordinary if he were delivering to a place with actual true-blooded Saiyajins, like the *Super Saiya-size Me Prince Gym run by the moustached man-smurf with the permanent scowl on his face (… _Mr Wegiter? Vegitable?_ or whatever his name was). Or that restaurant across that gym, the *Pasta Ala Kakarotto, even if the owner and manager ( _Mr Cuukoo? Googoo, wassit?_ ) insists that he is an Earthling and not a bloodthirsty Saiyajin. They say it was due to a concussion he suffered when he was just an infant that caused that very specific amnesia (which also incidentally left him with unhealthy levels of optimism and a permanent stupid grin on his face like he’s always thinking of adding you to his menu). While it may be true that the man could have forgotten his Saiyajin origins, clearly his appetite sure as HFIL didn’t.

Now, a scraggly, withered old man and a handful of petite human females of the Happy Bunny Hothel ordering this much pizza? While the things that actually turned Piccolo’s stomach and made his liquid lunch want to leave his system the same way it came in were too few and far between, humans devouring food in indecent amounts definitely took the cake. He was seven feet and muscular where they were lithe and tiny and yet he could live on just water and the occasional fish meat… _How hard could whoring be to cause such small and insubstantial females to eat like famished Vikings all the time? Must be bloody hell hard work…_ So either this was one of those queer human dieting rituals or they were really also descendants of the Saiyajin race who just happened to think that they were Earthlings… (Not that he gave a hoot. All he really cared about was--)

“Alright, that’ll be fifteen grand zennies, discount coupons applied.”

Only when he looked up from the bill after some deathly silence did he take in the full panorama of everyone’s histrionic stares.

“What?” Piccolo blinked up at them incredulous. “Seriously? I was only under a minute late, aren’t you being too harsh? That’s ten whopping thick-crust Super Saiya-sized pizzas with the entire farm on it! Do you have any idea what it’s like lugging that up twenty flights worth of steps? It’s no fucking wee shit, I tell you!”

Silence.

“C’mon, fellas! Cut me some slack here! It’s not my fault your crummy elevator is on the blink _again_! I actually made it to the receptionist at the entrance with ten minutes to spare, so technically, I wasn’t even late!” _There was no way in hell he was going back to the pizzeria without being paid for all these pizzas! That bastard Raditz always took his sweet time at the ovens; this was really his fault!_

But no matter how much he griped about it, he knew that by the end of the day it was still going to be _his_ ass roasting under their spitfire of a boss Guru. Naturally, the old coot would side with his Saiyajin lover over his least favourite nephew; life largely wasn’t fair on top of it being ugly most times-- Piccolo knew that fact only too well too. _Still, why did it always feel like the world was conspiring against him whenever he made deliveries to this crappy place?_

Still more silence and more unabated staring.

A loud ‘hic!’ snaps everyone’s attention back to the very inebriated young customer who was also obviously very rich (and proving to be very kinky), who valiantly endeavoured to stay upright just to keep his portentous finger trained on the hapless Namek.

One of Roshi’s “bunnies” who was standing right next to the said hapless Namek yelped as her boss grabbed her by the shoulders and adjusted her position so that she was blocking the unwilling target from the said finger.

“A thousand pardons, Mr Son, sir!” Roshi flashes a toothy smile. “I trust you were referring to our prima belle here, Bloomer-chan! Excellent choice! She’ll be more than happy to serve you for the night, so if you would--”

“Noooo-hic!--ooowpe!” Mr Son drawl-hiccupped, still trying to stubbornly lock on to his target with some imaginary red beam of light from his finger even as Roshi did his best to cover the green giant’s mass with ‘Bloomer-chan’’s slender form. “Ffthaa greeen one!”

Everyone looked from Piccolo behind Bloomer to Mr Son; to Mr Son to Roshi.

“Why uhh, yes! That’s right! You have impeccable taste, my good man!” Roshi plodded on, his smile upping a notch. “Bloomer-chan’s hair _is_ a delightful shade of blue-green, isn’t it? Many of our regular patrons really dig the bluenettes -err, greenettes?- I reckon, it’s the new ‘sexy’!” (The blonde and brunette “bunnies” roll their eyes and puff in annoyance at that.) “And if you prefer a spicy-feisty blonde to go with your blunette, Launch-chan here can be both! Better yet-- you can have both bunnies for the discounted price of--”

“Nuuh-uhhh! Nooo hair! Skiin! Fffhhhe grrreen-shhkinned dude behind herrr!”

Piccolo brows went up slowly as Bloomer offered him an apologetic look before nervously stepping aside.

“Yesshhh!!! Hhheeem!”

The bodyguards in suits and shades frantically dove and grabbed their charge as he pitched forward in his befuddled enthusiasm, saving his face from being steamrollered by the perfectly innocent and varnished countertop.

Mr Son smacked the hands all over him as soon as he recovered, irritably tugging back his rumpled dress shirt before straightening up tipsily, looking around as if trying to regain his sense of direction, and then upon spotting Piccolo his face lights up and he once again, shoots out his finger in the said direction.

By now, Piccolo found it to be significantly disconcerting.

“Hiiim! Mrrr rose-pink nnninnnjaa turrrtle man, whatevvverrr!”

Once again, the room was plunged into an eerie, charged silence.

“Look,” Piccolo spoke up when the silence began to feel oppressive, especially when the boy they called ‘Mr Son’ gave him what he gathered was meant to be a seductive wink. “I don’t know what the Kami’s balls is going on here, and frankly, I don’t want to know.”

More winking; now interspersed with rather unsettling eyebrow-wiggling.

Piccolo did his mightiest to suppress a shudder as he picked up his delivery bag, slung it over a shoulder and stood his full height; all the while taking careful pains to _not_ look in the direction of the strange Earthling who -albeit all the attractive and available human females in the immediate vicinity- was for whatever aberrant reasons, hitting on _him_.

“Err-uh, okay. Now, if you’ll all excuse me, I have places to be, pizzas to deliver and all that shit. So if you don’t mind, I’d like to get paid now so I can haul my underage ass out of this sleazy joint.”

“You want _him_?” Roshi finally found his voice again, jabbing his thumb in Piccolo’s direction.

"Uh-huuuh," their client nodded slowly; all goofy grins and flushed cheeks. "Hessh smoulllderhing! I wantaah fheed fthe fires uf hishh fuuurrrnace with my loooong--!"

"Ohhh-kaaay!" Roshi's high-pitched agitated voice interjected, much to his bunnies' dismay. They shifted and shuffled their weight uneasily in their synthetic rabbit fur-covered heels.

"We uhh, just might have one  _teensy little_  problem, Mr Son, sir. Err… you see… my employees are the cuter-sized ones, with cute bunny ears and matching cute bunny tails." He pulled over the girl with the nametag 'Launch-chan' and turned her back to him to flash him her "cute bunny tail".

Then setting her back aside, he motioned to Piccolo again. “The green giant with the huge rack and truckload of muscles work for a different outfit. He’s uhh… just here to deliver dinner, I’m afraid…”

“I donk giffa fffuck!” Gohan pushes away his bulky bodyguards who had doubled their efforts in trying to restrain him. “I came here ta get some luvin’ annhhnd I wahnt it-- frrum him!”

“Eyy, uhh, but-but--”

“That’s whhhat it shhays right thuurrr on ‘is shirt! If that’s a lie, then aah’ll ssshue you fer false advhertishing!”

On cue, everybody turned to look once again at what their very rich (and randy) client was pointing an accusatory finger at; this time, it was the words on the Namek boy’s uniform:

 

 _Hungry for Luvin'?_  
Order **Green n' Sexy Pizza!** & Get A Taste of Love.  
DIAL: '4-6-8 ( **H-O-T) N-A-M-E-K** ' NOW!

 

Piccolo defensively held up his arms when everyone’s stares moved to his face from the big bold ostentatious print on his super tight-fitting uniform _(that did not flaunt his bursting Namekian pecs more flatteringly than all of Roshi’s ditzily dressed bunnies)_.

“Hey, I don’t make ‘em! I just wear ‘em!” he retorted gruffly, his cheeks slightly dusted purple.

“He shhmells yummy enough to eat!” cooed the drunken brunet (some drool pooling at the corner of his lips).

Piccolo’s nose crinkled in discomfort as everyone in attendance subtly sniffed in his direction. “Uhh… I just raced up twenty floors like a madman to make it on time and I’m sweating like a whore… err, no offense meant. That would be the pizza you’re smelling.”

“Mmm…” Mr Son just said, flicking out his tongue and running it deliberately over his lips while giving the perspiring Namek a cross between a hungry and dirty –but altogether just creepy- look. This time, Piccolo was unable to suppress a shiver.

“Listen,” Piccolo tried to assert himself once again. “You’re making me late for my other deliveries.”

“Are you _sure_ you don’t want any of my regular bunnies?”

The young man huffed. “It’shhh fthe green man or fffuuhrghet it! Aah’m leaving!”

“Oh no! Please wait!” Roshi cried. “You’ll have him!”

“What?!” Piccolo sputtered.

“It’s fine- I’ll, eehh, I’ll make it happen!” The old man assured “Mr Son” as he frantically signalled for his assistants to escort their guest to the luxury suite and serve him as best they can while he took care of some “last-minute business dealings”.

Piccolo was torn between making a break for the exit and waiting for his money, but his body was already slowly inching away of its own.

Unfortunately, not fast enough, as Roshi managed to latch on to his arm and pull him to one side of the room that was more private.

“My boy--”

“Not interested!”

“Just hear me out here—”

“Can I please just get paid now, pops?”

“Piccolo-kun,” Roshi said, attempting to sound soothing. “You’ve been delivering pizzas to us for a long time now. My bunnies love you and your pizza.”

“I’ve only been delivering pizzas here for three weeks.”

“That’s what I meant. Anyhoo, I’d like to extend a once-in-a-lifetime offer.”

“Thanks but no thanks.” Piccolo’s reservoir of customer service courtesy was running dangerously low. “Believe me, gramps, you _don’t_ want me to be late for my deliveries or you’ll answer to my boss-- a curmudgeonly old fart who is not as friendly a shade of green as I am and nowhere near as sexy; and that’s when he’s in a good mood! Besides…!” Piccolo looked exceptionally distressed as he continued, “Your pizzas’re getting cold! Cold pizza is like… melted ice cream!”

“Hmm…” Roshi rubbed his beard. “Wise words.” He titled his head towards the area of his parlour just beyond heavy scarlet drapes. “You heard him, my bunnies.”

One by one, his bunny girls emerge from behind the divider from where they had apparently been eavesdropping and dutifully began to devour the pizza in the adjoining room.

“Can I please get my money now?”

“Sure! But first: How would you like to be a Roshi Bunny?”

An anthropomorphic pig no taller than the lounge chairs who had crawled out from somewhere to get a slice of pizza began to choke at that very moment. None of the “bunnies" seemed to notice.

Piccolo narrowed his eyes at the old man. He really wanted to leave, payment or not. That- and he wanted to flatten Roshi’s dark sunglasses against his face with his fist-- but no! That would definitely lose him his job (if he hadn’t already), and he badly needed every single zenny he could scrounge just to stay afloat!

The creature whom Piccolo knew was named Oolong was still trying to clear his windpipe of debris. The bunnies still paid no heed.

Piccolo was now fully convinced that the place was jinxed.

“How about this: I’ll pay you not only for this delivery, but for all your remaining deliveries; I’ll even triple it! All I need you to do in exchange is simply  'entertain' our very special guest for the night.”

“How about if I 'simply' refuse?!”

“If you do, then I’ll have no choice but to phone your boss right now and tell him you were a minute late and demanding a full pay.”

Piccolo growled low. “That’s really sneaky, old man. Your blasted elevator is busted!”

“You just have to accept my offer.”

“Gggrr. What about my deliveries? I need this stupid job!” The Namek groused, frustratedly pulling down his tightfitting shirt that kept riding up his torso and exposing his washboard abs; his flexing pectoral muscles made the girls (who were back peeking behind the curtain, pizza slices in hand) take gigantic bites and chew more ravenously.

“My men will take care of it! I’ll phone your boss and make sure you’re in the clear; you have my word.”

The green-skinned teenager snorted. He doubted the man’s word was honourable (or any part of him, for that matter) but what choice did he have? If he walked away he was most certainly going to be one job less which couldn’t be a bigger blow with his current financial standing.

It wouldn’t be a stretch to say that he’s tried every legitimate job out there available to him that he could find. The best he could do was hold three (it used to be four when he worked as a bouncer but loud noisy places just weren’t his thing). So that left him with ‘columnist’ for a love advice website and ‘assistant librarian’ every weekend mornings apart from delivering pizzas full-time, which needless to say was where the bulk of his meagre income was coming from at the moment.

“Do you know how hard it is for someone of my, err-- ‘attributes’ to find a job?” Piccolo seethed.

“I do,” Roshi said. “Which is why you shouldn’t pass up this rare opportunity. Just think of all the nights of sleep this one gig will buy you!”

“I don’t sleep.”

“More time for you to make money then!”

Piccolo fidgeted, every part of him was screaming blackmail and yet it was true: he was desperate. Earning an honest living was hard!

“The clock is ticking, my boy.”

“You said ‘entertain’. I’m only thirteen years old, and… and even if I’m already in college I’m not allowed to peddle my body yet,” Then Piccolo mumbled almost incoherently accompanied by a furious blush, “I’m also a virgin who’s never been kissed!”

Roshi guffawed. "My dear boy! Thirteen  _ **is**_  the legal age of consent on this planet so you're entitled to peddle away, as much as you want! Besides, my bunnies don't offer –strictly speaking- just sex! They offer other services just as enjoyable! Cuddles, warm hugs, companionship, and much more; depending on the client’s wishes –or kinks. All of which might ultimately -but may not always necessarily- lead to yes, sex. But you saw the lad, didn’t you? He’s drunk as a skunk! I’ll bet he won’t even last five minutes of romancing with you before he passes out! You won’t have to worry about the main event, just make him think that’s where it’s heading but tire him out with foreplay until he’s out.”

“That’s it? Then why are you paying me such a ridiculous amount of money?”

“It’s not outrageous at all, considering how loaded that young man is. But let me spell it out for you all the same. You, my boy, are part of a potential golden investment. I know a rich but unhappy young fellow looking to burn too much money when I see one! And you, may be the key to my business hitting that jackpot! If we play our cards right and he still fancies you after tonight when he sobers up, I reckon he’ll keep coming back for more and it will be a win-win for both of us!”

“Speak for yourself, old man!” Piccolo bared his fangs.

“Every single one of my bunnies would pay to be in your shoes right now, and do you know why? It’s not often that chaps who walk in here happen to be young and good-looking apart from being filthy rich. So consider yourself lucky!”

“If he’s all that, why would he come to a seedy place like this?”

“My dear, dear boy… Why else do wealthy married men come to places like these?”

Piccolo waited for Roshi to answer his own question but he didn’t.

“This is your last chance to grab my offer, Piccolo-kun! You don’t need to think about these things too hard, sometimes you just have to grab the bull by the horns! If you snooze, you lose! Besides, if he was sensible enough and really wanted sex, do you think he would have chosen you? Well, unless of course he’s gay and wants you to fuck his ass, which would make better sense of all this actually. But the way I see it you’ll do nothing except shake your tight Namekian tushy a few times and presto! You walk out of here at least fifty grand zenies richer and everybody’ll be happy! So why the hesitation, my boy? What have you got to lose?” 

Roshi extended a handshake. 

And against all better judgement, Piccolo accepted it. 

 

_Turns out, Piccolo Daimaoh Jr had a lot more to lose than any of them had bargained for._

 

**To be continued…**

* * *

****

**Author's Note:**

> All **(*)** asterisk'd terms are largely stuff I made up (such as a "Hothel" = Hotel + Brothel.) (Aug.7,2017 **Update:** ) You've probably noticed that situational comedy and puns are waaaaaay outside my comfort zone in writing. Not that I have many within that zone to begin with, haha! Anyhoo, hopefully, as of today, I'm done with the final edits for this one, so until the next chapter... (As always, 39 for reading & leaving honest feedback! ♥︎)
> 
> * * *
> 
> To the dearest lovelies who helped me weather the bad times, I truly appreciate your existence! ♥︎ Cheers!
> 
> * * *
> 
> Gift Cover Illustration ["Delivery Boy" by ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12225435)[Sealid](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Sealid/pseuds/Sealid).
> 
> (03/31/2017 – 08/06/2017) 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Delivery Boy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12225435) by [Sealid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sealid/pseuds/Sealid)




End file.
